Namramurti

Cole couldn't properly see the Sisters from his bunk. He could see the luminous edge of their dance in the darkness, but not their full splendour. He took the cloth bundle with him as he scaled down the short ladder and hurried across the metal cabin to sit beside the narrow window. The task ahead was frightening. He needed the fortitude the Sisters offered.   

   Seven brilliant points of bluish white set against the swirling red and yellow of the nebula.  

   Namramurti had been in synchronous-drift with the Seven Sisters all of Cole's life. There were two thousand sojourners aboard. Some said the vessel was endless, full of secrets and hidden vaults. Cole had no idea yet if that was true, but he loved the stories.  

   "Still can't sleep?"

   Cole smiled and turned to his big sister yawning at him from the lower bunk, her head propped up with a hand. "You know what father said," he told her quietly. "That on your birth-date you can glimpse the Krist in the ionized dust amongst the Sisters. If you're pure of heart."  

   Kayla's tired gaze seemed a mixture of sadness and affection. "It's a lovely story, Cole. And the star cluster is truly beautiful. So, maybe this time." 

   Carefully, Cole unwrapped the cloth bundle in his lap. His prized possession. A wooden sword, handmade by their father before his death. It was gifted to Cole in his eighth year. He was about to complete his eleventh, and he gazed in wonder at the craftsmanship. The blade was dull and of no harm but the sword seemed almost real, painted to perfection. The cross-guard was set with a green gemstone that sparkled when held up to the light, just like the legends his father told him. Apparently, it was an almost perfect replica of the sword of Aratur himself, the Old Earth king.  

   "You love that little toy," Kayla gently teased.  

   "It's all I have left of him. Besides, it's not a toy. It is Scalibur, the blade of truth and honour!"  

   She smiled. Even in the dimly-lit cabin Cole could see the sweetness in his sister's expression.

   "Of course. Forgive me. Wield it well, young prince. And blessed birth-date."

   Cole grinned, warmed by the fact that she was willing to play along despite being almost sixteen years old. He still needed dreams and flights of fancy like this. Now more than ever. Because unbeknownst to his sister, on this particular date of his birth, he had set his mind to risk everything. Perhaps even his life.

*

Cole had gently kissed Kayla’s cheek and slipped from their cabin after she’d fallen back to sleep. Now he hurried through softly-lit but seemingly endless hallways, towards the freight elevators. He had no scabbard, so the wooden sword hung from his hip by the work-strap of his coveralls. He had also taken father’s necklace from the cabin wall and was wearing it for the first time since his death. A small cross of silver. Supposedly, the emblem was a sign of the Krist – one of Old Earth’s most compassionate spirit-guardians. Aratur himself was said to have pledged allegiance to the wisdom of the Krist during his reign.

   Upon reaching the elevators Cole paused and took a breath. According to the Elder Coders, the Namramurti was a living ASI – an Artificial Super Intelligence. Cole still wasn’t sure what those terms meant, but he inferred that Namramurti was a synthetic god of some kind. This frightened him, but all children were trained in mathematics and configuration. Some displayed greater aptitudes than others. As a low-level coder, despite being only eleven years old, it meant he had a certain access.

   Up to a point.

   He waved his palm before one of the readers. A green light flashed with a quiet buzzing sound and the elevator’s portal unfolded in an intricate spiral, like an eye seeking focus.

   Cole entered and a moment later the portal folded behind him.

   With anticipation he clasped the hilt of the sword at his waist, as the elevator descended into the bowels of the ship.

   The portal eventually unfurled with a soft hiss nine levels down, revealing a darkened industrial corridor lined with pipes, electrical trunking and neural conduits. The contrast to the living quarters high above was shocking. The air here was slightly acrid with a chemical scent, as though less considered for human comfort. The dim red of emergency lights and the indigo of temporal-shift regulators traced the edges of the passage, casting barely enough light to see.

   It felt like Cole had descended into a bad dream. He stepped out nonetheless, his hand tightening around Scalibur’s hilt.

   The quantum hum of the ship was deeper here. Cole could almost feel it through the soles of his boots. The mind of the synthetic god was still below him, deep in some ancient meditation that his own biological consciousness could barely comprehend. He passed anonymous hatches and pressure-locks etched with intricate glyphs, their meanings unknown to all but the Elder Coders. Perhaps even they didn’t know all the ancient languages anymore. Father had told him on many occasions how the sojourners of Namramurti had inherited the ruins of a fallen civilization. Some even said the vessel had been in synchronous-drift with the Seven Sisters for eighty-four years.

   Cole couldn’t even fathom such a length of time. He wondered at the thought of it, but a moment later he felt the electrical sting of his neural comm suddenly engaging like a tiny pinprick in the side of his neck.

   “Cole, where are you?”

   He sighed, trying to think. Eventually he said aloud, “Diagnostics. For morning calibrations in our quarter.”

   Kayla seemed unconvinced, and distinctly worried. “Why did you turn off your locator? And how? Configuration wouldn’t summon low-level coders for diagnostic checks during REM cycle. Tell me what’s really going on.”

   For a few moments he was quiet. When he finally spoke again it was the truth. “I’m going to find our father.”

   There was genuine fear in his sister’s voice. “Cole, this is madness. You’re risking sedition, and exile. The void of interstellar space. Do you understand? Come home, RIGHT NOW.”

   But Cole’s response was firm. “Please don’t try to stop me. I love you, Kayla. But I’ve thought about this. I can’t live like you. I need more than code, or configuration. I need Dad.”

   He could hear the terror in Kayla’s voice now, and the tears. “Dad’s dead!”

   “That’s why I have to do this.”

   “Sweetheart, listen to me. I know you still grieve him. So do I, but this isn’t a quest! You’re not Aratur. You’re just a child. If the Elders find you...”

   “I’m sorry, Kayla. Pray for me.”

  “Little brother, please. I cannot lose you too—"

   But Cole jabbed at the electrical sting in the side of his neck, immediately disabling the neural comm beneath his skin. He stopped in the middle of the shadowed corridor, tears in his eyes. He had never felt more alone.

*

For the next thirty minutes Cole hurried through a maze of dark, branching passages, following a route he had tried to commit to memory. But now his throat was closing with dread. What if his research of the schematics had been wrong? What if he was hopelessly lost now? Down here, alone, in the endless service-levels of Namramurti?

   He rounded a corner, wondering if he would even be able to find his way back to the freight elevators.

   But then Cole froze in his tracks.

   Ahead of him, a shrouded figure was standing before an open hatch, sleeves rolled to the elbows, a palm pressed against a network of neural sensors. Cole must have gasped. Immediately the figure turned his head. Over the standard-issue coveralls, Cole recognised the unmistakable hooded black shawl of an Elder.

   His heart sank.

   The man didn’t remove his palm from the interface. He simply scowled, then called out, “What are you doing down here, child? These are restricted levels.”

   The man’s tone was icy. Almost terrifying.

   “I...I’m a level-three coder,” Cole stammered. “I have access.”

   “Not beyond the end of this hallway. What quarter are you from?” Cole swallowed but didn’t reply. “Answer me, child. NOW.”

   “The Second Quarter. Diagnostics and Calibration.”

   “Return there immediately,” the Elder warned. “Or face the harshest penalties.”

   Cole swallowed again. “No. I can’t.”

   The Elder suddenly pulled his palm from the open interface and began stalking towards Cole. The boy gripped the hilt of the wooden sword at his hip, but was otherwise frozen at the oncoming sight. The Elder reached him and snatched his hand away from the childish comfort of Scalibur. Cole saw that the man’s bare forearms were inked with the strange glyphs of Old Earth. His neck too. He held Cole’s wrist in a fierce grip as he gazed down at the fake sword. His eyes seemed to widen, almost in disbelief.

   “What is that?”

   Cole had tears in his eyes now, his heart thudding in his chest. “Nothing! Just a toy, crafted by my father. From an Old Earth legend!”

   But the Elder peered down at him like he was the worst of all thieves. “How did you acquire a first-generation data-key? Where did you get it?”

   Cole had no idea what the Elder was talking about. He didn’t respond, nearly paralysed with fear. Suddenly the man shook him, almost violently.

   “Do you have any idea what we sacrifice for you, just to keep the server-vault and the oxygen cyclers stable? The things we’ve lost? And you go stealing from the reliquary?”

   “I didn’t steal anything!” Cole pleaded, his voice breaking. “I swear it upon the Sisters, and the Krist! I just want to speak with my father...”

   The Elder laughed at his mention of the Krist, and began marching Cole back down the darkened corridor.

   “Child, there are two thousand souls aboard this vessel. If we discover a reliquary breach, or any other violation that threatens the safety of these souls...well, you know what that means. Exile.”

   “I didn’t! Please listen!”

   But the Elder continued dragging him along, uninterested in anything he had to say. Cole had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but he needed to see his father. Nothing else mattered now. He might have been young, but he was no fool. As much as the legends of Aratur and Scalibur meant to him, he knew the wooden sword couldn’t provide any real protection.

   As the Elder jostled and hurried him along, Cole reached into the cargo pocket of his coveralls. He carefully removed the crude device he had secretly retrofitted during his time with Kayla in Engineering. He had built it from the ruined parts of an obsolete simulation-interface. A haptic agitator, no larger than a forefinger, originally designed to assist muscle memory in virtual environments. But it only contained one charge.

   Cole prayed to the Krist that it was enough.   

   “Forgive me,” he muttered, and shoved the agitator into the hooded Elder’s ribs.

   The man released Cole instantly. He cried out and fell to his knees, doubling over as his entire body was momentarily wracked with spasms. Cole knew it would only last a few seconds. He took his chance, turned on his heels and fled back into the dark depths of the ship.

*

He knew he had crossed a line by defending himself against the Elder Coder, but the man had been terrifying, threatening exile in the void of interstellar space. Cole also recognised the grim fact that the man would quickly marshal the other Elders. They would try to locate the trespasser. He knew there was only one path left now.

   Keep moving forward.

   He gazed into the circular metallic shaft. It descended only three more levels according to the schematics. However, to Cole’s eyes it looked like an endless abyss. Nothing but blackness at the bottom. He could feel his pulse racing, but he tried to remember what father had taught him about breath. Inhale to the count of four, exhale to the same count, and repeat for as long as needed.

   Below him, the quantum hum of the ship was even stronger.

   Resonant, palpable. Practically alive.

   Carefully, and with Scalibur on his hip, Cole eventually climbed out over the edge of the shaft and began descending the ladder.

   He allowed himself to glance down for just a moment, and was suddenly all too aware of how dangerous this was. If he slipped, he wouldn’t survive that fall.

   Cole descended as calmly as he could. One rung after the other.

   Halfway down the shaft he felt the electrical sting of the neural comm in the side of his neck. He grit his teeth in frustration. Somehow, Kayla had managed to reactivate it remotely.

   “Cole, for the love of the Krist, where are you going? I was able to hack your locator. I can see you on my handheld. Please, Cole, talk to me! If you’re really going to do this, it doesn’t have to be alone. Just wait for me...”

   But Cole wouldn’t respond, even though the silence broke his heart.

   Instead of answering, he gripped the rung of the ladder with one hand – suspended in the middle of the black shaft – and with his other he pressed the electrical sting in the side of his neck for several seconds, locking the implant. Hopefully that would buy him some time. He couldn’t bear the thought of his big sister pleading in his ear as he was about to complete the final portion of his journey. Cole didn’t think he had strength enough to withstand that. He loved Kayla far too much.

   When he finally reached the bottom of the shaft, he let out a trembling sigh. His legs felt unsteady, like his entire body was quivering with relief. But there was a cautious optimism within him too. Cole knew he was almost there.

   At the end of a wide hallway, Cole finally saw it.

   The colossal, gleaming portal to Namramurti’s core. It was imposing to be sure. Taller than twenty men and forged of burnished gold. As Cole got close enough, he realized it was laser-etched with a thousand intricate glyphs of Old Earth.

   He had fantasised about this moment for the last six months. Whilst working, eating, lying in his bunk before sleep. He had planned it meticulously. Truth be told, Cole hadn’t expected to get this far. But now he stood before something incomprehensible. Something the Elder Coders practically worshipped.

   He stood at the gate of a synthetic god.  

   The server-vault. Or, what he had heard the Elder Coders refer to several times as the Vault of the Dead. The Place of Spirits.

   At last, Cole drew Scalibur from the work-strap of his waistband and slowly approached the massive portal. His stomach was tight, his breath shallow. The wooden sword was shaking in his hand. He knew he was being brave, and yet he had never felt more like a child.

   Cole pressed his free hand to the burnished gold surface.

   He could feel the swell of the hum behind those doors. His lips trembled. Tears welled in his eyes.

   “Father,” he murmured. “I’m here. Forgive me, but I had to come.” Cole pressed his forehead to the surface of the vault. “It’s…it’s been so difficult since you died. Kayla helps to repair the machines, and I code what they let me. We’re good at it, and we try to act like everything’s fine, but it’s not. It’s horrible. I know the rules. I know the Elders are just trying to protect us, but…I feel like I’m going mad. I keep dreaming about the sun you spoke of. The sky, and the rain. How it must’ve looked. How it must’ve felt against the skin.” Cole shook his head at the thought of it. When he spoke again his voice finally broke. “We don’t even have any images! All we have is our imaginations. And darkness. Endless, infinite darkness…”

   There was no answer from beyond the vault.  Not even a whisper. Just the ever-present hum of Namramurti’s quantum servers.

   Defeated, Cole let Scalibur finally slip from his grasp and clatter on the floor.

   “Dad,” he murmured. “I’ve been praying every night. I’m even wearing your necklace. I followed my heart just like you taught me. If you still exist, please answer. We miss you so much.”

   Again, there was no reply. But this time something made Cole glance down at the wooden sword abandoned on the floor.

   The green gemstone in Scalibur’s cross-guard was catching a golden reflection from the vault’s surface in a peculiar way. It was sparkling like Cole had never seen before.  His snatched it up, intrigued. The heart of the gem was suddenly shifting, as if filled with ionized gases and tiny particles of dust.

   A miniature galaxy seemed to be spiralling within.

   “In the Name of the Krist,” Cole muttered to himself.  Suddenly he recalled what the confused Elder had called the sword in his hand.

   A first-generation data-key.

   In a moment of realisation, Cole turned the wooden sword upside down so that it resembled a larger version of the cross at his throat – the very emblem of the Krist – and pressed the gemstone to the vault’s gleaming surface.

   A massive shudder resonated through the portal. Cole gasped.

   The burnished gold before him began to unfold.  Thousands of interlocking pieces opening in spiral formation, to reveal the brightest colours Cole had ever seen in his life.  He stared in awe at what lay before him. It was like another world entirely.

   With Scalibur clasped tight, he stepped across the threshold. The portal began folding behind him.

*

Though he had never seen images of one, his father had told him all about them. Describing them in intricate detail.  Cole knew instinctively that he was standing in a garden.

   A vast chamber filled with light, and the greenest vegetation. Plants, shrubs, and flowers of every kind. The scent alone was intoxicating. Like a balm on his soul. Cole inhaled as deeply as possible. Everything felt so wonderfully, inexplicably alive. And the light – it seemed to have no source, but Cole could only imagine it was akin to the sunlight his father had spoken about.

   For a moment, he wondered if he were dreaming. Or dead. Perhaps he’d fallen from the ladder in the shaft earlier. Perhaps he was among the Seven Sisters right now, and the unfathomable compassion of the Krist.

   But he knew in his bones that it wasn’t so. Indeed, Cole had never felt more alive. The fragrant air was rich with oxygen, filling him with a palpable vitality.

   Ahead of him, kneeled in the grass amongst a bed of vivid red flowers, was a woman.

   The most beautiful woman Cole had ever seen. 

   She smiled warmly. A moment later she gestured for him to approach. Cautious yet captivated, Cole slowly walked towards her. He almost laughed with delight when he felt the surreal softness of the grass beneath his boots.

   The woman was barefoot and clad in a strange yet beautiful garment. Fabric of the loveliest pink and yellow, adorned with shimmering edges. Her skin was dark brown.  Her hair black as infinite space, styled in a tight bun. A dot of red ink in the centre of her forehead. But what amazed Cole the most was her jewellery. Beautiful bracelets. A delicate ring that pierced her left nostril – a thin chain of gold connecting it to another ring in her earlobe.    

   “It’s called a Naath.” 

   Cole flinched at the sound of her voice. Until now, he’d assumed she was a spirit of some kind. She smiled at him, touched the delicate nose-chain and added, “It’s a symbol of devotion.”

   “To who…?” Cole muttered.

   “To the sojourners aboard this vessel.”

   Cole was soothed by the gentle presence of her voice, but he shook his head in disbelief.  “Am I dead?”

   She chuckled. “No, Cole. Far from it.”

   “I…I thought this was the server-vault. The mind and heart of the ship.”

   “It is.”

   “I don’t understand…”

   “The servers and drives remain protected beneath this garden.”

   Cole’s eyes went wide with recognition. He took a step back, almost in fear. “Namramurti?”

   She looked away, a sudden sorrow in her expression. It nearly broke Cole’s heart.

   “Yes,” she said softly. “I am she.”

   “You…you’re a sim? A quantum simulation?”

   She nodded. “Photonic lattice, held in a magnetic field. A configuration of hard light.”

   “Are…are you sentient? Alive?”

   The woman peered at him, and sighed. “In all the ways that matter, I suppose. It’s a burden and a gift, isn’t it? Cognition.”

   Cole took a slow, baffled breath and gazed at the majestic red flowers sprouting from the grass between them. “These flowers. They’re incredible. I was told about them as a child. What are they called?”

   “Roses. Genus Rosa.”

  “I can’t believe they’re real,” Cole muttered, more to himself than the beautiful sim. “I came here hoping to speak with my father. The Elders called this the place of spirits. I was hoping, somehow…”

   “This is a place of memories, Cole. And hope. But not spirits. Only my own.”

   Tears came to Cole eyes, hearing her words. He felt the awful, crushing weight of his own grief.

   A moment later, the electrical sting of the neural comm pricked the side of his neck. And then his sister’s words in his ear:

   “Cole, I’m here! Can you hear me? I’m here! I’m outside! I followed you on the handheld! Please talk to me! I won’t let you do this alone!”

   The tears spilled down his cheeks as he turned in disbelief to the beautiful sim sitting barefoot in the grass. “That’s Kayla! She’s outside!”

   “I know.”

   “She…she came for me?”

   The woman smiled, though her eyes were still full of sadness. “She loves you. And she’s very brave. You both are.”

   Cole glanced down at the wooden sword still clasped in his hand. He peered at the sparkling green gemstone set into the cross-guard.

    “She has no data-key.” He fixed the beautiful sim with a questioning look.  “Will you let her in?  She’s everything to me.”

   The woman simply glanced in the direction of the vault’s golden portal, and it began to open in a spiral of a thousand fragments. A few moments later, Kayla wandered into the garden like she had stumbled into the strangest dream. Clenched in her hands was a fire-axe. But it fell from her grasp as soon as the reality of her surroundings began to sink in. The portal quickly closed behind her.

   When Kayla finally registered Cole’s presence she immediately broke into a sprint through the grass. She threw her arms around him, almost lifting him off his feet with sheer relief.

   “Cole, I thought I’d lost you! I thought…”

   Her words trailed into nothing as her mood suddenly shifted. She withdrew from the embrace, stepping back from him. She was peering over his shoulder, at the beautiful woman sitting in the grass.  

   “Mother?” Kayla muttered.

   To Cole, that single word felt like he had been punched in the gut. Their mother had died when he was three years old. Only Kayla remembered her face. Tears of shock were already glistening in his sister’s eyes.

   “No, Kayla. I am not Pranika Bennett. I’m not your mother. But I’ve briefly taken her likeness.”

   Kayla was shaking her head in horrified astonishment. “Who are you?”

   “I am Namra Murti, the humbled form. The living intelligence of this vessel.”

  “WHAT?”

   The woman frowned, her expression full of sympathy.  She slowly got up from the grass to meet the girl’s gaze directly. “Kayla, I didn’t take this form to unsettle either of you. Please believe me. Your mother was a very brave woman. Both your parents were.”

   Kayla snatched Cole’s hand and began pulling him away from the beautiful sim adorned in gold and pink fabrics.

   As if reading Cole’s mind the woman gazed down at her garment. “It’s a called a sari. A traditional form of Indian dress your mother’s ancestors wore on their home-world. I wear it too, as a mark of respect.”  

   “Leave me and my brother alone…”

   The woman’s tone was pleading now. “Kayla, Cole, listen to me. I can help you. All of you. It’s something I’ve wanted for the longest time. But the Elders, they live in fear. Souls in bondage. Please, let me explain.”

   “So explain,” Kayla hissed at the sim, her tone full of distrust. 

   The woman frowned. “There's no deceit here, Kayla. I promise. But I need to show both of you what I’ve been protecting. Please don’t be afraid. It’s not too far.”

   She turned her back and began slowly walking away.

   Cole and Kayla looked at each other, in silent understanding. They had come this far. Would they turn away now, in fear? Father had always taught them to be respectful yet brave. He had left them the data-key hidden in a children’s toy. It had obviously been a dangerous decision. Shouldn’t they honour his memory with this final act of courage? Together?

   Cole offered his hand, eyes narrowed. Kayla waited only a moment before taking it.

   The two of them followed Namramurti deeper into the beautiful garden.

*

Cole and Kayla were standing breathless in the heart of the green place, on the shore of a shimmering lake. They gazed in awe at light glinting like diamonds on the water.

   Kayla pressed a hand to her mouth as she began to break down, her chest starting to heave. Cole could see they were tears of joy. The lake’s beauty was almost paralyzing, as though the very spirit of the Krist was with them. The sim stood a few paces away, watching them with an expression of concern.

   “In all my dreams,” Kayla whispered, “I never imagined something this beautiful could exist…” 

   “It’s the last pure waters of your home-world,” the sim told them. “Life itself. If you came seeking spirit, this is it. The waters above are cleansed and cycled for life-support, of course. But here, I wanted to protect our last link to the source.”

   “What happened?” Cole asked, stunned at the breath-taking reality before them.

  “Earth was falling. The Sojourner Project was simple: save as many souls as possible using quantum-stellar technology. A joint operation between two cultures. India and the United States.”

   “Yes,” Cole muttered. “Father told us this.”

   “But we were hit by interstellar debris, long before you or your parents were even born. Before our defences had time to evolve.”

   Kayla’s eyes widened. Cole felt a chill as he listened.

  “Our shields were unable to fully withstand the impact. It was catastrophic. Hundreds of lives were lost. Our flight recorders, our audio-visual archives. Our history.”

   Cole shook his head. It sounded like a nightmare. “But then, how did we survive?”

   “We drifted, crippled and dying – until the Elders found a way to seal the hull breach and initiate a form of temporal stasis. But we never reached our destination.”

   “You mean the Seven Sisters?”

   “Yes, Cole. The Pleiades. We sought a new home-world amongst that star cluster. A verdant, habitable world. Only, now we’re locked in synchronous-drift above that system.”

   “For the last eighty-four years?” asked Kayla. “As the Elders claim?”

   The woman nodded.

   “Are we able to descend towards that habitable world?”

   “Perhaps. But the Elders have forbade it. They locked my engines to keep us in this drift.”

   “Why?” Kayla demanded, unable to fathom it. “In the Name of the Krist, why would they harm themselves like that? Harm all of us? What benefits them?”

   “There is no benefit. No ulterior motive. They simply fear change now, and risk. They truly believe they’re protecting the souls of every sojourner aboard our vessel. Allowing the continuity of life as they’ve come to understand it. All else is folly to them. A terrifying unknown.”

   “Is there life on this world?” asked Cole. “Non-human life?”

   The woman shrugged gently. “I would imagine so. I know the realm is oxygen-rich. It has carbon, minerals, and various forms of vegetation. Where there is vegetation there are other lifeforms, but of what order or intelligence I cannot say.”

   Cole gazed at the stunning beauty of the lake and its surrounding garden, all hidden within the confines of the vast server-vault. 

   “Is that why you built this wonderful place? To maintain a connection between Old Earth and this new home?”

   The sim gazed at him for a few moments. Cole realised she had tears in her eyes.

   “My brave prince, I didn’t build this garden. I grew it, as any mortal would. I’ve had almost a century to do so. Seeds and soil from Old Earth. Flora, fauna. And patience. But yes, I did this in hope.”

   “Can’t we unlock the engines somehow? Cause the ship to descend remotely?”

   “I’ve tried, Cole. Many times. But it cannot be done from here.”

   “Then help us,” he demanded, his voice firm. “Help us find a way.”

   “It will take several months to reconfigure the engines. All sojourners must be involved, considering the damage we sustained in the initial devastation. That’s where the fear of the Elders originates. For them, stasis is better than risk.”

   “But could it work? You must have run an assessment.”

   The beautiful sim smiled proudly at Cole.

   “It could, with a little courage and grace.” She gestured at the wooden sword still clutched in Cole’s hand, then at the silver cross around his neck. “It seems to have already carried the two of you this far.”

   “The data-key,” Cole muttered, peering down at the green gemstone in the sword’s cross-guard. “Father left it for me to find, didn’t he? Like a secret.”

   “More than a secret,” the sim replied. “A silent prayer, reaching beyond even death. It belonged to your mother. And her mother before that, and her mother’s mother.”

   Cole saw tears in his sister’s eyes as the sim spoke of Pranika Bennett. Kayla still remembered her. Cole could only imagine how it must hurt, to miss not just one parent, but both.

   “There are many brave souls aboard this ship who have been trying to secure us a genuine future, for the last eighty-four years. Your parents were among them.”

   “Why didn’t father just tell us the truth?” Kayla asked angrily. “Because of the Elders?”

   “Yes. He intended to reveal everything to both of you. However, life here is harsh, and when Tobias Bennett fell from that gantry, his intention died with him.”

   Cole squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to picture the fall.

   “Cole, Kayla, your parents both died trying to protect their children. I can’t imagine anything more courageous.” The sim gestured at the sword in Cole’s hand. “May I…?”

   Hesitantly, Cole offered Scalibur to the beautiful woman in the garden with them.  She lifted the sword and pressed the sparkling gemstone to the red dot at her forehead. For just a moment the gem flashed more brilliantly than ever before.  Suddenly, it tore itself from Scalibur’s cross-guard, hovering in the air – as though held by unseen spirits.

   Cole inhaled sharply at the sight. Then, with a delicate gesture, the woman caused the floating green gem to drift through the air and down into Cole’s open palm. He swallowed, shaken. Like he’d witnessed an act of magic. The data-key felt alive in his fist, almost buzzing with strange energies.

   “I’ve re-coded it with repair projections. And a message. Not just for the Elders, but for all sojourners. You needn’t fear capture now. I’ll create safe passage for you, to the Fourth Quarter.”

   Cole stared in wonder at the gem in his hand. “And then...?”

   “Show that key to the head Archivist. They seek a future too. Then the long, slow process of healing can begin. And, eventually, a new home.”

   Cole still couldn’t believe it. He glanced at his sister, then back at the beautiful simulation. Despite her happiness for them, he could still sense her sorrow.

   “What about you?” he asked quietly. “Aren’t you lonely here? All by yourself? I mean, I understand that you’re a synthetic intelligence, but…you have a soul, don’t you?”

   She glanced away. “It feels like it.”

   “I can feel it too,” Cole told her.

   When she looked at him again she smiled, but she didn’t hide her sorrow. “Loneliness is a small price to pay, I think. Besides, I have my garden. My seeds and my soil. I’ll be all right for as long as the servers last.”

   “I’ll come back,” Cole told her, his heart aching at the thought of her isolation. “I promise.”

   She bowed her head slightly in what seemed a gesture of gratitude.

   “Thank you. Both of you.”  At last, she glanced down at the toy still clasped in her hand. She smiled like a child, with eyes full of wonder. “Cole, in those Old Earth legends of Aratur the king, did your father never mention a Lady?”

   Cole gasped, glancing at the shimmering lake in astonishment. He peered at the beautiful woman in the sari again, like he was seeing her for the first time.

   “The water-guardian,” he whispered, in a thrill of delight. “Protector of the Sword…”

   The beautiful sim grinned, her eyes dancing. “I may be artificial, and alone, but I love those legends too.”

   She held the sword aloft and began walking backwards across the shore. Into the calm, clear waters of the lake. “Grief is powerful, Cole. But I suspect love is even stronger.”

   Cole watched in reverent silence until the woman was neck-deep in the water, still holding the sword aloft, her eyes serene.

   She called out to him, “Thank you, my king.” Finally she said, “Above the water. Look.”

   Then she and the wooden sword vanished beneath the shimmering surface.

  For a few moments there was only the soft, gentle sound of the lake. But then a child’s innocent laughter filled the air. Just above the water floating images began to appear, slightly transparent – glitching and fragmenting – but clearly visible. Moving images.

   A little boy play-fighting with his father in the small cabin of a vast starship, a swirling nebula of red and yellow beyond the window. A girl a few years older, sitting in her mother’s lap as the woman lovingly braided the child’s hair.

   Cole peered at his sister, who tearfully pressed her hands to her mouth as she watched.

   For a few moments the moving images continued, accompanied by the glitching, slightly distorted echoes of conversation, laughter, and family. A mother tenderly bandaging her daughter’s hand. A father sharing a bunk with his son, holding the boy till he slept.

   And then the images were gone.

   Cole let out a tremulous breath. He could feel the reality of the data-key in his fist. The crushing weight on his heart for the last three years was finally lifting.

   He gently touched the silver cross at his throat. He knew what Namramurti was trying to show them. Their parents had taken all that wonderful love with them. Beyond the void of interstellar space. Beyond death itself, into the endless mysteries of the Krist.

   Cole glanced at Kayla, who simply smiled despite her tears.

   “Thank you, Dad,” he whispered. “I love you. We both do, but it’s time to be brave now.”

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